For Her
by Yoshichao
Summary: Thinking back, this red-eyed youth never commented on the case. He never reacted to it. All he did was worry about the victim. This victim. The one that was still alive. If that other boy hadn't taken the blame for the crime, and this one was properly accused instead, he may have just taken the guilty verdict without a word.


"It was you, wasn't it?"

He had been sitting in the seat beside the hospital bed. The girl lay unconscious; hooked up to many machines that kept her alive. Hopefully she would be okay - the doctors had done a good job to save her from the deadly stab wound.

The boy with the tousled hair didn't turn around. He was slouched over the bed, seemingly watching over the young woman. He wasn't wearing that jacket from before (it was nowhere to be seen - he probably disposed of it already). Instead he wore a dark red long-sleeved shirt (_the colour of blood_, the short newcomer thought) and a pair of black pants. He was dressed somewhat formally, but it seemed like it was simply his preferred clothing style, rather than for a special occasion.

The small detective couldn't see the boy's face - he could have fallen asleep for all he knew. He walked slowly into the room, his shoes loud as they met with the clean, sanitized floor. Once he reached the side of the bed (which was just as tall as he was - he hated being small), he looked at the teenager in the chair.

He was awake, but he may as well been sleeping, since his expression was blank and unmoving. His scarlet eyes were lifeless and he was unresponsive to the boy beside him. The bespectacled boy shoved his hands in his pocket and gave the taller boy a cold look.

"The man in the alleyway. When he attacked her, you rushed in to protect her-" He spoke in English, of course. The man in front of him may have been Japanese, but he wasn't sure how well he knew the language since he had lived in America for years. "-which meant killing the man. You were there because, originally, you wanted to surprise her so you followed her, waiting for the right moment." The older boy remained silent, so the short brown-haired boy continued his deduction.

"The cement on your shoes was still wet while you were in the alley, thus you walked through a construction site - the closest one would be right in front of the jewellery shop. You probably bought her something there. That place also has a weird perfume, which I could smell on your clothes earlier."

"Now why would a seven-year old boy know something like that?" Finally, a response! It was like talking to a statue this entire time. He was smirking very slightly in amusement, but he didn't move other than that. It was a very sad smirk; all the cockiness that may have been intended was completely drained. His mind was still elsewhere.

But the younger boy wasn't going to answer his question. He only knew because Sonoko had dragged he and Ran into that very shop. This man didn't need to know that. "You already disposed of the clothes before the police got involved. You made the excuse that it was her blood on you and you wanted to clean up. But you've actually been in here the entire time, haven't you? The clothes - and the murder weapon - should still be in this room."

The smirk had already gone before the detective finished his line of reasoning. _Got him! _The brown-haired boy didn't need to look around to know there was a lack of hiding places in here. But his opponent was clever; he would have found a way.

There it was - in the first place he looked. Hidden under the hospital bed was a blood-stained black jacket that was tired tightly to the supports. The knife was probably there too. He would alert the police once he was done here.

Looking back up, the other boy remained unchanged. Had he given up now? He hadn't made a single protest. Was the guilt hitting him? Is he finally facing the reality of his actions? _He better be._

"The other boy... The one that looks like your twin-" He didn't know if they were related or not, but they looked frighteningly similar except for the eyes. If they were related, they most likely didn't grow up together. "-he took the blame for you because he knew... He knew you already had several crimes piled up, and he didn't want you exposed for them. You've been mindlessly killing people for years now. I don't know how many or when you started, but I would be right to assume it would be enough for you to get enough support for the death sentence in any country."

Yes, here he was. Alone in a seven year old's body with an established serial killer. _No, perhaps a mass murderer_. He wasn't sure - this person had never been caught or suspected for any of his crimes (until today, of course). But he had surely done a lot in the past few years. And he could barely be older than the detective himself - seventeen; nearing the end of high school...

He still hadn't moved. The boy detective looked up at the girl on the bed. He was almost certain she would be okay. Did the red-eyed boy know that? Did he worry anyways? Well, if he was in the same situation with Ran, the young detective might have felt the same...

"She woke up earlier." His attention snapped to the unreadable boy in the chair. He was speaking perfect Japanese. The little genius had been under the assumption that the red-eyed boy had never lived outside of America, especially since his English was perfect. He thought he would be - if anything - slightly rusty, but apparently not. Clearly he hadn't done enough research on this person. He realized he didn't know a thing about his personal life (it was useless information but it was starting to intrigue him...).

The boy with the glasses let the teenager continue. "We woke up... at the same time." He wasn't saying something; his face was scrunched up, as if he was confused and couldn't explain it. "She wasn't awake for long, but she opened her eyes for a moment..."

"Did she say anything?"

He shook his head. "But she looked so focused. She smiled... at me... She looked so perfect and healthy... and normal..."

The young blonde had been stabbed in the gut only earlier in the day. He and Ran were witnesses. If this person hadn't rushed her to the hospital in his arms, she would have surely died. Really it was a miracle that she didn't bleed to death anyways.

They hadn't recognized the girl's saviour originally, as he had been wearing a hat and they never saw his face. Even after arriving at the hospital, he ran off to change before anyone could get a good look at him (though the detective now knew he had just been with this girl the entire time). He had run a lot faster than Ran and himself and had, assumedly, been long gone before they arrived. Eventually the two twin-looking boys and a girl had all ended up in this very room together, and when he and Ran walked in, she described one of the boys to possibly be the culprit. The girl had gotten angry, claiming the two would never do something like that, but the doubt still hung in the air.

Thinking back, this red-eyed youth never commented on the case. He never reacted to it. All he did was worry about the victim. _This _victim. The one that was still alive. If that other boy hadn't taken the blame for the crime, and this one was properly accused instead, he may have just taken the guilty verdict. He was absolutely out of it. In his world, there was only this girl and nothing else.

"You are very smart, detective." The young boy was taken aback, shaken from his thoughts. Was this what he thought it was? "She... was - _is _- such a pure and innocent girl."

He had that sad, distant look on his face. The boy detective suddenly felt somewhat hateful - it was just the way he was speaking. He almost sounded obsessive whenever he talked about her. The blue-eyed boy felt queasy while listening to that tone. He had heard people talk like this before, and they also turned out to be criminals.

"She's so kind and accepting... She wasn't scared, you know." He turned to look at the smaller boy for the first time that day, and that's when he understood. His eyes were sparkling with admiration and giddiness. He genuinely cared for the girl. She could have been the only one he had ever cared for during his life. Something softened inside the mature detective - this other boy may have been an unfeeling psychopath at one point. But not anymore. He was deep in love and was just as human as the rest of the world.

"She was so welcoming... I think she knew from the start, just how dangerous I was. But she didn't care. She would have let me hurt her - she just wanted to help me. If she couldn't save me, she would adjust to help me cope with life. But she was never forced to. She was an angel - a real one. She helped me go towards the right path, but she never forced me. I changed... so much... I was going to turn myself in, even. I hadn't been hit with guilt in so long. But when I merely suggested it to her... she started crying... I couldn't... I couldn't leave her. That's how I cope with killing people now. If it's for her, then it's okay."

"Killing people is never okay," the younger boy corrected, albeit coldly. Any sympathy had evaporated at that.

The other one sighed. "I know that now. That's why I have to trick myself into believing it when I end up doing it. Since meeting her I've only killed two people - and they were both hurting her. I swear it felt like I was doing it every other day before that... I don't even know why I..."

The conversation was incredibly jarring. This was a full-out confession. He had doubted this would happen after walking into the room. This person didn't seem like the type to lay out his secrets and feelings like this. But here he was, and it was happening.

And he was the only one here to hear this.

And who would listen to the words of a seven year old?

The bespectacled detective wasn't sure if this person would still be this vulnerable once the police arrived. Heck, maybe he was only revealing everything because it looked like he was only in the presence of a kid.

Having the body of a child had its benefits, despite being such a curse.

Something must have happened because the teenager's head snapped back to the hospital bed. Damn, he hated being so short! There was another chair in the room, so the blue-eyed boy grabbed that and dragged it over to stand on. The boys' eyes were wide with disbelief.

The pale, sickly girl had opened her eyes. Those blue eyes seemed so distant and glassy, contrary to what the other boy testified to earlier. After a moment of glancing around, her eyes widened with confusion and panic. This fear was apparently enough to push past the drugs as she suddenly began failing in an attempt to rip off the oxygen mask.

"Shh, pretty girl, please don't do that..." The elder boy held her arms down to her sides, though it didn't stop her muffled protests. She looked incredibly distressed, so the younger boy shouldn't have been surprised when the neatly dressed teen submitted and went to remove the mask. Despite his feeble, squeaky protests, there was no way to stop him. This was another time to loathe being so small and weak.

The young blonde woman didn't look at all lucid, but it didn't upset the young man with the messy hair. She was alive and awake - that was good enough for him. Admittedly, the little detective was pleased to know she was certainly going to be fine after all was said and done.

The girl was twitching, though, and very obviously uncomfortable. She was mumbling; her voice raspy and slurred. But the other boy was patient and seemed content with threading his hand through her hair, a small smile on his face. It took a few moments, but she finally said something that was understandable.

"I want up!" She was shaking as she tried to sit up. Of course, the IV had numbed her torso area. She wouldn't be getting very far without help. Speaking of someone that may help her...

"Oi, hey, don't hurt yourself..." The older boy was clearly worried, and the brown-haired pre-schooler was sure he would oblige to anything she asked. Not good.

"I've done it before!" She seemed incredibly determined to do what would normally be a simple task. "I don't want to be here again! 'Ospitals are 'errible!" She was slurring worse than before. Miraculously, she was able to force herself almost-upright until she yelped in pain, hissing when the teenage boy helped her lie down again.

"I wanna _leave_!" She was flailing about, trying to swat the boy's hands out of the way, but to no avail.

"You _will _leave soon, just calm down and regain your strength." His words were soft and sounded incredibly sincere. "I'll help you, okay?"

She seemed to believe him as she relaxed almost instantly. The detective almost believed him too, and was ready to stop whatever escape plan he had planned out. But then he understood when the red-eyed teen put the mask back on her face; murmuring words of reassurement. It seemed she was too exhausted to realize his true intentions, as the young woman made no move to resist.

The saddened young man was pressing buttons on the medical machinery (it was somewhat worrying because he seemed to know what he was doing, which brought up many questions as to _why _he knew). The small detective knew he was turning the anesthetic back on so she could sleep peacefully again. She did nothing but stare up at him with tired eyes - and there was a flicker of acceptance in them. She must have realized what he was doing now.

The blonde used the last bit of her strength to put her hand to that boy's cheek. The shrunken boy thought he could have been witnessing a woman on her deathbed - her lover beside her for the last time. The one who gave everything for her. Perhaps in the end, _he _was all that mattered to _her_.

The little detective thought of Ran. He had lied so much to her - he hurt her every day with all the empty promises of coming back, when in reality, he had been there the entire time. How would she react if she knew? Would she be upset at the pile of lies that were built up? Would the two of them end up like this couple, closer than ever? Could such a dangerous truth bind people like this? It was honestly a terrifying thought, despite how promising it may have seemed if played out right. _She's safer not knowing_... How true was that? Was he just being selfish when he never told her anything?

The blonde girl was writing English letters on the teenage boy's cheek. It was the smallest of movements; the boy had to hold her hand gently so it didn't fall completely limp.

_I... L... O... V..._

The shrunken detective knew this was an intimate moment, and was about to look away, but the elder boy acted first. He stopped the girl from tracing the letters, slowly sitting back down in his seat as the girl began to doze off. Once she was sound asleep, the boy with the red-eyes started sobbing quietly. He didn't stop when a group of others - a doctor, a couple officers, the two friends, and Ran - finally walked in. It almost seemed like they waited until this very moment - when it was all over.

Edogawa Conan... no, _Kudo Shinichi_, may have not understood the chaotic thoughts and intentions of a murderer. But he understood the lost, hopeless feelings of a man.


End file.
